The Mysterious Voice, Part Three

The Mysterious Voice's wail of delight melts into a despairing shriek as she throws her head back, clutching two handfuls of her golden hair as she screams as much to the sky as to you.

"What did you DO TO ME?!"

She growls as a low, breath chuckle fills the brisk night air. "Oh dear. Too slow now to figure it out?" The Dean's newly plump breasts jiggle wildly as she whips her head around in an attempt to find the source of the amused voice, her expression rather like that of a cornered animal as the hidden speaker continues to mock her. "Just take your time; I know how hard thinking can be for such a silly little girl..."

The Mysterious Voice shrieks in rage. "I AM NOT SILLY~!" She immediately throws out her arms in a vain attempt to blast the disembodied taunts, her defiant scream melting into a squeal of unwilling pleasure when the magic sputters ineffectually off her fingers and her body begins to quiver and swell yet again. Until now she couldn't have been mistaken for anyone but herself, even with the changes she'd already undergone. But now the constant exposure to ****'s milk-corrupted power has more than taken its toll, and the Dean looks at best like a younger, much sluttier relative of hers. Her formerly handsome and mature features are now cutely sensual, her bigger eyes sparkly and wide and her once wicked Cheshire Cat grin now bee-stung and inviting. Her dress has completely slipped off of her slimmer shoulders, revealing big, perky breasts that look exactly like the sort of thing a spoiled sixteen year old might get for her birthday, big enough to lord over all the other girls but not so big as to embarrass Mummy and Daddy at social club dinners. All that keeps her dress from slipping off entirely are her newly lush thighs, increasingly rounded hips and what looks to be one of the cutest bubble butts you've ever seen, more and more of the hem of her formal attire bunching up on the ground as she shrinks from her formerly imposing height. The Mysterious Voice collapses to her hands and knees as she finally releases the poorly considered magical ****, sniffling as she tries unsuccessfully to pull her now ill-fitting dress back over her transformed body. "'M not silly..."

She lets out a small gasp as an elegant hand reaches down, gently slipping a finger under the newly christened sexpot's chin to lift her trembling eyes upward. "Shush now, my dear; of course you are."

The Dean sniffles again, her gaze noticeably dimmer as she stares dumbly at the figure that looms over her. Then, her eyes widen. "S-****?"

The being coos down at her transformed master, soothingly patting her cheek with her other hand. "Of course, Mistress." Even if she hadn't spent the last several minutes overdosing on the essence of pure bimbo, the Dean probably would have still needed a moment to recognize her magical servant. The dusky woman is still clearly herself, but in the way that an overtly sexualized fan service drawing of some video game character is still recognizably itself. Before she was a pretty if demure figure, a picture of respectable professionalism. Now she is an obscene riot of flesh and sex, with legs that would drive runway model to tears and tremendous protruding hips that curve back into a cartoonishly waspish waist. Her otherworldly breasts are absolutely bigger than yours, and you know what? You're okay with that. She can have this one. She looks like someone combined Jessica Rabbit and Elvira, gave what came out a tan and a boob-job then called it a day. For her part, she seems to have trouble keeping her hands off of her bogglingly enormous breasts, lifting a hand back up to lightly caress the endless expanse of one tit. "Are you having trouble, Mistress?"

The Dean nods slowly, then scrambles to her feet as a **** look crosses her face. "Omigod! ****, my magic is, like, all poopy now; you gotta do something!"

The dusky woman raises her eyebrows at that. "And what do you want me to do?"

A shadow of her formerly wicked smile crosses her face as the woman jabs a finger at you and your friends. "First off, you gotta totally kill those dumb bitches!"

**** hums in pleasure as her questing fingers locate her fat, stiff nipple. "I do not recognize that request."

"Huh?" The Dean stares vacantly at her secretary for a long moment, trying to work through what's happening. She doesn't seem to be able to quite get there, her eyes filling up with childish anger. "Fucking do it! Kill'm or whatever!"

"I do not ooo~!"--**** momentarily cuts off with a shiver as she indulges in a little squeeze of her needy bud--"Recognize that request."

The Dean puffs out her cheeks and stamps her feet, her tantrum utterly ignored by the dusky woman as she continues leisurely exploring her new body. "Do it! DoitdoitdoitdoitDOIT~!"

"I do not recognize that request."

Screwing her eyes shut in a display of what has to be the last bit of discipline that wasn't washed away by the mooing deluge of ****'s tainted power, the Mysterious Voice brings what brain cells she has left to bear in a last ditch attempt to remember how to phrase a proper command. "I, um, demand that you totally destroy...er..."--She cracks open one eye to take a peek at the three of you--"Um, that you destroy Glasses, Big Boobs and, uh, Other One! I super seriously order it 'n stuff!"--She lets out a gasp of exertion, seriously strained from all that thinking as she looks up hopefully at ****. "I did it! Right?!"

Chuckling in deep enjoyment, **** reaches out to boop the indignant girl on the nose. "I do not recognize that request."

Jenny furrows her brow, a bit put out. "Wait, am I seriously just 'Other One'? What an asshole."

The Dean hisses like a spitting cat, abandoning her attempts at convincing **** to help her to instead simply run in a stumbling fury straight for Jenny. Unfortunately for her, however, she hadn't yet realized that she is now quite a bit smaller and significantly weaker than the surprisingly athletic Jenny, the Asian girl simply catching her by the head with one outstretched hand and effortlessly holding her back as she flails her arms in a fruitless effort to claw to **** the girl she cannot magically destroy. Her banshee wail of wordless rage turns into a shocked grunt when Jenny simply pushes her down to plop onto her plush bottom, Isabelle stepping forward with a frown. "It's over. You should...just accept it, okay? There's nothing you can do."

The transformed girl's eyes go wide as she processes that, growing even wider when **** leans down to coo into her ear. "She's right, you know. You're, like,"--She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, carefully refocusing her bimbofied thoughts--"You're too weak to do anything. You've lost."

The Mysterious Voice's jaw hangs slack for a moment, then her big eyes flare in what might be her final trace of defiant pride. "No! No no no no NO!" With that she grits her teeth and clenches her fists, straining in all the effort she can muster as she tries one last time to regain mastery over her treacherous powers. She must be really giving it her all this time, a halo of pinkish energy igniting around her as she screams in primal desperation, refusing to let go of the magic even as she transforms further and further. Her lips have swollen up beyond reason by now, a pair of thick cocksuckers that she will probably have difficulty closing if she ever manages to keep anything out of her mouth again. All traces of maturity and intelligence have sloughed off of her face, leaving behind the visage of a girl who looks barely out of high school, if even that. Even her long blonde hair, already quite fitting for her new style, gets into the game, restyling itself into a pair of long pigtails that seem perfect for use as handlebars.

You're a little surprised she's still refusing to let go of ****'s power, until you notice that her focus is no longer inward, futilely attempting to **** her magic to work through sheer **** of will. Instead, her eyes are locked on the sight of your huge breasts in a look of dumb, undisguised jealousy. Wait, is she just holding on in an attempt to make her boobs bigger than yours now?! Her own substantial chest has certainly grown, now quite a few cup sizes past what Mummy and Daddy would consider good taste, but you can't help noticing that she's topped out there. She seems to have noticed it too, her luscious lips pursing into a pout as she redoubles her efforts and tries to pump even more tainted magic into herself. The rest of her continues to ripen unheeded, her wide hips and breathtaking ass swelling as she slips a finger between her still growing lips to satisfy a sudden all-consuming urge to suck on something. She squeals around her full mouth as her pussy visibly bloats in an enormous camel toe, permanently drooling down her thighs and so fat that it would be nearly impossible to walk without squishing it with every step. And yet her impossibly perky breasts do not so much as quiver. You shoot a suspicious glance towards ****, your hunch immediately proven when the dusky woman gives a coquettish shrug. "I like them the size they are now."

The Former Dean whines and grunts as the pinkish aura sputters fitfully, her grasp on the magic apparently fizzling out of its own accord as she lets her finger slip from between her fat lips. Either she's run out of power to drain, or she's finally lost her knowledge of how to tap into it all together. Either way, she dizzily lifts herself up to her knees as she cups her breasts with shaky hands, large by any reasonable accounts but still well below the bar you've set. "My boobies are too small..." She sniffs, looking up at **** with forlorn eyes. "Can I have, like, bigger boobies?"

**** clucks her tongue affectionately, reaching down to cup her master's cheek. "Maybe. Can you do something for me?"

The Mysterious Voice stares blankly at ****, lightly rubbing her cheek against the dusky woman's hand. "Um...what thing?"

**** leans down, her voice a husky hiss as she grips the side of the girl's face in a soft yet unyielding grip. "Give me back my True Name."

The Mysterious Voice whimpers. "Um, I can't. I, like, forgot it."

**** sighs at that, giving the Former Dean's cheek a reproachful little smack as she straightens. "Of course you did. If you'd left my Name inside your memories, someone else could have, like,"--She 'tsk's, refocusing her thoughts again--"Someone could have found it there. It's just gone forever, then. I really am stuck here with you." **** peers down at the sniffling bimbo at her feet, a thought crossing her mind that she clearly finds delicious. "Actually, that's just fine. I want you to give me a new name. Will you do that for me, dear?"

The girl bites her lip, the way her hands have begun straying towards her juicing pussy making it clear she'd rather be doing something else. But nevertheless, she nods. "Okay, um...what name?"

**** leans down, a streak of countless hues of pink sizzling into existence to ribbon around her outrageous body, her form changing before your astonished eyes. By the time she's planted a kiss on the top of the girl's head, you've realized exactly what she intends. "Call me Mommy."

The formerly dusky woman is now a perfect recreation of the Mysterious Voice as she once looked...more or less. Rather, she's her with the caveat that The Dean had gotten some pretty serious work done, a face that was once merely handsome now exquisitely sensual and her tasteful pant suit proudly filled to the brim with bulging breasts. Looking at the woman and the girl who sits dumbly beside her, it's amazing how much the Former Dean truly looks like her own daughter now. They're the oversexed Dean and her overripe bimbo daughter, the sort of cheerfully dim girl who almost certainly had to suck a couple dicks to get into even the college her own mother is Dean of Admissions for. The girl blinks up at what is explicitly a sexified version of what was until recently her own face, and then visibly gives up. "...Okay."

**** traces a finger across the girl's face, the Former Dean shuddering as it passes her overly plush lips. "Okay who?"

"Okay, Mommy."

The woman, who you are so not calling Mommy, straightens at that, releasing her held breath in a hiss of triumph before glancing towards you in amusement. "I'm sure you agree that it'll be easier for me to simply take her place than try to explain what happened to her, yes?"

You nod slowly. "Sure. Do you think you're up to it, though?"

The New Dean scoffs. "I am a higher being. I'm sure I can handle being an administrator for a community college, even if I am slightly bimboed. Still puts me well above any of you human dum-dums."

Jenny folds her arms under her breasts at that, giving the woman an imperious look. "'Dum-dums'? You failed the test, you know. Doesn't that make you our docile cow?"

The cheerleader jumps as the New Dean's all-too-familiar Chesire Cat grin is suddenly inches away from her face, her arms draped over the girl's shoulders as she whispers into her ear. "You're exactly right, Jenny. Do you want me to grant you a wish?"

Jenny immediately regrets her decision to say anything. "Um, no; definitely not."

The woman chuckles at that, giving Jenny's cheek a pinch. "Smart girl." With that she reappears beside the Former Dean, helping the girl to her feet with a dotingly maternal look. "Oh, my sweet baby. You've had a long day, huh?"

The bimbo sniffles, her pigtails bobbing as she nods.

"Why don't we go and get you a nice, big cock to play with before bedtime, hm?"

The girl lights up at that, already starting to drool a little. "Really, Mommy?!"

The New Dean nods, and the two of them vanish, the transformed girl's delighted 'Yaaaaaaay~' fading away to echo between the buildings of the quad long after they were gone. You let out the breath you hadn't even been aware you were holding, knees weak from being held tight for so long. You run a hand through your hair, share a glance with Isabelle and Jenny, and then all three of you explode in a wordless revel of dancing triumph.

You did it.